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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124780">lower jacket pocket</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/van1lla_v1lla1n/pseuds/van1lla_v1lla1n'>van1lla_v1lla1n</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>pocketverse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Succession (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Come Eating, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingers In Mouths, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mention of alcohol, Mention of pegging, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Unsafe Sex, butt stuff, mild kinkshaming about a foot joke, slightly intoxicated sexy stuff, they are so cringey god help me, without lube because this is fiction ALRIGHT</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:48:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/van1lla_v1lla1n/pseuds/van1lla_v1lla1n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty outtakes from ch. 3 of "inside pocket."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>pocketverse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. would you like that?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tom and Greg have been mutually moping after the congressional hearings shitshow. Tom goes over to Greg's, they talk about their ~feelings~, and (herein) Greg finally gets Tom to shut the fuck up for once.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck you, Greg.”</p><p>“Fuckin’ do it, dude.” Tom kissed him hard, and Greg grinned against his mouth.</p><p>Tom gasped when Greg bit at his neck, asked, “Do you want to?”</p><p>“Want to what?” Greg said against his neck.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>“Fuck, what? What are you asking?”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Greg. Fuck <em>me</em>. Do you want to fuck <em>me</em>?”</p><p>Greg looked up at him, smirking. “Why, yes, Tom. I’m so glad you asked. I would like that very much.”</p><p>Greg patted the counter, and Tom hoisted himself back up. Greg stood between his knees and kissed him, hands tight on his hips. Tom usually worked so hard to be assertive with Greg, to make sure Greg and everyone else knew Tom had the upper hand. And maybe it was the shitty wine or the weeks of humiliation wearing him out, but just then, with Greg kissing him and untucking his shirt and palming his dick through his pants, his scheming brain chilled out.</p><p>Greg said, “Do you want me to fuck you? Like, really actually fuck you? Because we don’t have to.”</p><p>“I do, Greg, yes. Can you stop asking? It’s getting a little embarrassing.”</p><p>Greg’s hands smoothed over his ribs under his shirt. He looked pensive. “Have you done this before?”</p><p>“I’m not some blushing fucking maiden, Greg.”</p><p>“I just want to help, Tom. Like, how much do I need to prep you?”</p><p>Tom swallowed, closed his eyes briefly. “I have. Kind of. With Shiv.”</p><p>“Right. Okay. Good, that’s good. I just, big feet, you know?” Greg chuckled bashfully.</p><p>“What? You’re not touching me with your feet, Greg. This is not a foot thing.” Tom grimaced at him, and Greg’s face fell.</p><p>“Big feet? ‘You know what they say about big feet?’ Right? It was a joke.”</p><p>“Please, Greg, continue to tell me all about your massive dick.” Greg rubbed the back of his neck, blushing, and Tom poked him in the chest. “Or you could just stop blathering and whip it out already.” And then he did, and Tom was the one blushing—because it’s one thing to see your own dick but another thing entirely to see a rather handsome one that’s attached to someone else, especially a someone else who you’ve wanted very badly to fuck for a long time, even if you’d never admit it.</p><p>Tom didn’t really know what he was doing, just felt himself staring into Greg’s face, sliding off the counter, sinking to his knees. His mouth felt so profoundly empty. He licked the little smear of precum off the tip of Greg’s cock, distantly heard himself whimper, and then he felt Greg’s hand warm on the crown of his head. Tom slid his hands down Greg's legs and took his cock full into his mouth. Greg bent over him, leaning on the counter, as Tom slid off and back onto his cock, holding on to Greg’s calves.</p><p>After a few minutes Greg pulled away and folded himself down to the floor to kiss him, holding his face. “Do you want to go to bed? Like, my bed?” Greg asked.</p><p>Tom nodded, and on the way down the hall he stopped in Greg’s bathroom to look over himself. His hair was all tufted and his eyes were weirdly, almost manically bright, and he couldn’t stop grinning. There was nothing in his teeth, his lips were maybe a little stained from the wine, but he could pass that off as collateral making-out damage. He smelled fine, he felt clean. He was in control here; he was not nervous. He nodded at himself and moved along.</p><p>Greg’s room was tidier than last time he’d been there. Greg was laying on his back in the bed, stripped down to boxers and socks, hands behind his head, and Tom undressed too, a little shakily, then lay down on his back next to him. Greg rolled over to crouch over him on hands and knees, leaned down to kiss him softly. When Tom gripped his neck Greg eased down to lay on top of him and kissed him more deeply, licking into his mouth.</p><p>Tom smoothed his hands down Greg’s back, his skin hot, and when Tom squeezed his ass Greg rutted against him and the pressure on his cock made him gasp. He wanted to ask if Greg had done this before, but he was fairly certain he knew, and also fairly certain he was too jealous to think about Greg doing this with anyone else and keep his cool. So he kept his mouth shut and let himself be distracted by Greg’s hips rolling over his and Greg’s tongue and teeth hot on his neck.</p><p>Greg propped up on his elbows to look down at him when Tom reached between them and found Greg’s cock.</p><p>“Don’t ask again,” Tom said.</p><p>Greg smirked. “I wasn’t. Do you want to look at me though?” he asked.</p><p>“Aren’t I?”</p><p>“Yeah, but like, while—”</p><p>Tom interrupted him. “Oh. I don’t know. Maybe not. Yes?” He paused, wincing. “But not really.”</p><p>Greg laughed and kissed him, then shifted back to kneel between his legs. He patted Tom’s thigh, said, “Alright, ass up.” Tom sat up and tugged off his boxers, suddenly feeling cold and exposed. When he turned around Greg rubbed his back and shoulders, and Tom leaned back against him as he reached around to smooth his hands over his chest, his thighs, and his dick.</p><p>Greg squeezed his waist, said, “Face down.” And when Tom started to protest he said, “That’s the other half, right? Face down, ass up.” Tom closed his eyes, shifted down to his elbows, and then felt Greg’s chest on his back, warming him up. Greg kissed his spine, rubbing his erection against the cleft of his ass. Greg held onto Tom's hip when he sat up, fumbled for a moment, then took Tom’s hand and squeezed something cold into it.</p><p>“That’s for your dick,” he said.</p><p>“Wow, Greg. Thank you for the tutorial.”</p><p>“Just, like, trying to keep the lines open, man.” Greg shuffled around behind him, rubbed his hands from Tom’s ass down to the backs of his thighs. “I’m going to lick your ass now.”</p><p>“Uh—” Tom started to freak out a little, but then Greg licked from his balls up over his asshole and Tom forgot every word but <em>fuck.</em> He pressed his face down into Greg’s lumpy comforter as Greg worked him over, trying to suppress the whimper in his throat. Then Greg eased a finger into him and Tom bit down on his own wrist.</p><p>Greg rubbed his thigh with his free hand, kissed his ass cheek. “You gotta relax, Tom.”</p><p>“I’m the most relaxed man on the planet, Gregory,” Tom said through clenched teeth.</p><p>“Just, like, touch yourself. And close your eyes. Stop thinking about me.”</p><p>“I’m not—”</p><p>Greg smacked his hip. “Shut up, Tom. Just do it.” Tom shut up and closed his eyes and stroked his dick, almost absentmindedly, and Greg was right, it was easier. He lost track of his breath when Greg slid in with another finger, rubbed over the hard ridge inside him, his free hand gripping Tom’s ass.</p><p>Greg kissed his lower back, still slipping in and out of him slowly with those fingers, and said softly, “Ready?” Tom nodded, remembered Greg couldn’t see him, and said in a voice embarrassingly breathless, “Yep.”</p><p>Greg’s fingers slipped out of him and Tom gripped his dick, pressed his forehead into the comforter. And then Greg’s warm hand was back on his hip, holding him still, and Tom felt the hot head of his cock sliding over his hole, easing into him, and it was just, honestly, a lot.</p><p>Greg rubbed up his spine, said, “Alright, man? You good?”</p><p>And Tom wasn’t certain that there was space in his lungs to hold talking air, but somehow he said, “Big fucking shoes, Greg.”</p><p>Greg made a choked sound like a laugh and a moan at the same time, said, “You’re doing good, man.” Tom blushed, arching his back under the praise, and gripped the comforter as Greg finally slid all the way into him, their hips flush. Greg rubbed his back as he pulled out slowly, and when he thrust back into him Tom heard himself panting.</p><p>Greg started to fuck him then, and Tom whined and whimpered and he could tell he was being loud but he couldn’t help it. He stroked himself with a shaky hand and bit down on the comforter trying to quiet himself. Then Greg tugged on his bicep, said, “Sit up,” and as Tom pushed himself up and sat back on Greg’s thighs, he felt Greg thrust into him even deeper and thought he might black out. But Greg held him up with a hand on his hip and another wrapped around his chest, braced at his throat.</p><p>Tom felt teeth graze his neck and moaned, then blushed at how loud it was without the comforter to dampen the sound. Greg fucked into him slowly, holding him still, and said in his ear, “Did you know that you are extremely loud?” Tom whimpered, Greg’s soft voice tickling his ear, and Greg slid his hand up Tom’s throat to close over his mouth.</p><p>“Shut up, Tom.” Greg started to speed up his thrusts, and Tom moaned against his hand. Greg pressed two fingers into his mouth, against his tongue, said, “Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Tom sucked hard on those fingers, trying to obey, and he came hard with Greg buried deep in his ass and Greg's fingers in his mouth and <em>Good, fuck—good, Tom </em>groaned softly in his ear. Greg held him tight against his chest when he followed soon after.</p><p>In the shower Greg pulled him into a hug, rested his chin on Tom’s head. “Sorry,” he said, “about the shutting up thing.”</p><p>Tom huffed out a laugh and shrugged. “Didn’t know you had it in you. I liked it though, I think. It was kind of nice, you know? To not have to decide things.”</p><p>Greg nodded sagely, stayed thoughtfully quiet for a minute. “Will you stay over?”</p><p>“Oh, somebody needs their postcoital snuggles, huh? You big softie.” Tom elbowed Greg out of the water to rinse off, and with his face under the water said, “Of course I’m staying over.”</p><p>Tom was the first to settle in bed. “You better get in here and spoon me before I change my mind about the postcoital snuggles, you needy fuck.” He pretended not to see Greg roll his eyes as he turned out the light.</p><p>“Fuck you, Tom,” Greg said, sliding under the comforter behind him.</p><p>“Fuck you too, Greg,” Tom said, and pulled Greg’s arm around him. Tomorrow they’d have to travel to the Mediterranean, have to deal with all manner of corporate bullshit in the name of family, but for tonight they could pretend they were normal, and comfortable, and happy. Tom fell asleep clutching Greg’s hand to his chest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. pretty boy like you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In Greg's last two weeks at Waystar, he and Tom try to lay low. It should be easy not to be too buddy-buddy, given that they're basically living together, but Tom's finding it more difficult than he should.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In Greg’s last two weeks at Waystar, he and Tom tried to lay low. The posturing battle between Logan and Kendall had ramped up to include lawyer teams after Kendall’s press conference stunt, and combined with Tom’s split with Shiv, neither he nor Greg thought it wise to ruffle any additional feathers.</p><p>Tom didn’t think anyone knew he was staying at Greg’s. Anyway that fact didn’t have much bite, Tom reminded himself—lots of guys stayed with their buddies when they split with their wives, right?</p><p>The real bite was that they’d fucked, that they in fact <em>continued</em> to fuck. Tom and his wife’s cousin. Tom and his assistant. Tom and a man, which he really wished wasn’t part of the issue, but given that he worked for the televised voice of America’s conservative elderly, a demographic that included his own father-in-law, boss, and uncle of his paramour, Tom couldn’t discount the reality of homophobia in this situation.</p><p>So in those two weeks Tom and Greg agreed they might be better off if they weren’t spotted alone, if they didn’t seem too buddy-buddy. It shouldn’t have been too hard, since they could still text and email clandestinely and see each other at least fourteen hours a day outside the office. But Tom struggled.</p><p>When Greg brought him coffee—it would’ve looked suspicious to cut off <em>all</em> the coffee deliveries, Tom reasoned—Tom waved him out of his office impatiently and made halfhearted jabs about his lanky classlessness. But it didn’t feel as fun as it used to, since Greg hurried out instead of sticking around to laugh about it with him. Tom was left sitting alone in his office, his dumb remarks rattling around in his head.</p><p>Greg didn’t walk with him to meetings or check in with him afterward, so Tom didn’t have anybody to defuse his discomfort or prop up his confidence. He was surprisingly bored, without Greg there to order around or shoot the shit with.</p><p>It had gotten difficult in the past few months not to touch Greg too much, but then it was because it would’ve been inappropriate. Tom had gotten around that with little shoulder pats and other innocuous touches that he’d hoped no one, including Greg, would find out of place but that still calmed some of his ache. But now that he could touch Greg at any other time, it was even more difficult to keep his hands to himself in the office.</p><p>On Greg’s final Wednesday on the job, Tom emailed him at his company address: <em>See me in my office please, Gregory.</em> Greg poked his head in minutes later, eyes wide, like he was expecting Tom to tell him to roll up his Gustav Klimt poster and get the fuck out of the building.</p><p>“Well, don’t just stand there like a frightened ruminant. Come in,” Tom said, “and shut the door.”</p><p>Greg rambled as he walked over to Tom’s desk. “Is this—what is this about, though? Because I already texted you—I don’t know if you saw it, I guess?—about the bagel supply? I’ll get more after work, I just had to hurry this—”</p><p>“It’s not about the bagels, Greg. Shut up about the bagels. I already saw your text.”</p><p>“Okay, so—” Greg gasped when Tom pulled him into a hug. In a stage-whisper he said, “Tom. <em>Tom.</em> We’re not doing this here, remember? What if someone comes in?” Tom tugged at a button on Greg’s shirt with his teeth, kissed his neck.</p><p>“No one’s going to come in, Greg. People don’t just come barging into my office.”</p><p>“But you said—” Tom put a finger over Greg’s mouth.</p><p>“I know what I said. But, just, please? We’ve been so good. And it’s your last week.” Greg shook his head and backed away, but when he turned toward the door Tom wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and redirected him, pressing him into the corner behind his desk.</p><p>Tom rubbed his cheek against Greg’s shoulder. “See? We’ll be quiet. And if anyone does come in, which they won’t, they won’t be able to see us from the door.” Tom stroked his sides under his jacket, squeezed his waist, stretched up to kiss the back of his neck. He reached down to cup Greg’s dick through his pants and Greg sighed, leaned his forehead against the wall.</p><p>“Yeah?” Tom asked, untucking Greg’s shirt and skimming his hands over his skin. “You like that, buddy?”</p><p>“Fuck. Fine. But can we be, like, expeditious?”</p><p>Tom was already working open his belt buckle. “That’ll be on you, Greg, huh?” Tom slid his hands just under the waistband of Greg’s boxers, held his bare hipbones while he rutted against his ass. Greg’s forehead thudded back against the wall.</p><p>“Just keep your head there, yeah? Easy on the banging,” Tom said.</p><p>“Sorry,” Greg said, and huffed when Tom removed his hands to slide Greg’s jacket off his shoulders.</p><p>Tom was back behind him before Greg had time to turn around, and he slid his hands down into his boxers, skimming just next to his erection. Tom wrestled the fabric down to free his cock, traced his fingers up the underside and over the head. He wrapped one arm back around Greg’s waist under his shirt, ghosted his other hand up and down Greg’s cock. When Tom squeezed, Greg braced his hands against the wall at his shoulders. Tom started slow, stroking the length of him, and when Greg pressed back against him Tom held him tight, fingers digging into his ribs.</p><p>Usually it was Tom who got pinned down when they fucked—Greg had the length and wingspan advantage, plus the experience advantage. It tended to work out better for both of them if Tom quit his know-it-all act, let Greg take over for a while, and just enjoyed himself. But Tom felt good, holding Greg still like this, and as Greg struggled to stay quiet, began to thrust into his hand, Tom thrived behind him in an air of erotic confidence.</p><p>By then Tom knew the pace Greg needed when he was close, knew a few little things that would tip him over the edge. When Greg bent his neck to press the top of his head against the wall, his fingertips paling from the pressure, Tom sped up, bit the muscle above his shoulder through his shirt. Greg bit off soft sounds as he came, reaching down hurriedly to catch his cum in his hand. Tom stroked him through it gently, cupped his balls, and with his free hand rubbed Greg’s chest as he caught his breath.</p><p>Greg turned around to face him and leaned back against the wall, holding out his hand. “How am I supposed to explain this?” Tom looked at Greg’s outstretched hand and up into his face and back at his hand. He took Greg’s wrist and licked his palm and fingers clean, eyes closed. Greg had come in his mouth before, but Tom felt different about this, almost possessive, like this was something he'd earned. Still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Greg’s face while he did it, if this was something people thought was as gross as swallowing one’s own load.</p><p>Tom turned away quickly when he was done, reaching for hand sanitizer in his desk drawer, but Greg pulled him back, kissed him full on the mouth. When Tom tried to pull away Greg held the back of his neck and deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth, and Tom let himself relax into it. When Greg finally let go, he smiled down into Tom’s face, then stepped away, breaking the moment.</p><p>Tom dug out the hand sanitizer for both of them, asked, “How was that? Good? Alright?”</p><p>Greg pulled his jacket back on, said, “Yeah, really good, dude. An excellent au revoir to the office, as it were. I’ll get you back later, alright?”</p><p>Tom nodded, picked up his coffee cup for something to do with his hands, winced when the cold coffee hit his mouth. Greg bent over him to give him a hug, and Tom turned his face awkwardly when Greg tried to kiss him on the cheek, bumping his nose. Tom blushed, but Greg just laughed it off.</p><p>“Maybe have a mint?” Greg said. “Just for, like, the cum—”</p><p>Tom waved him off. “I know, Greg. Fuck. I’m going to.”</p><p>“Sorry.” Greg turned back to wave at him from the door, grinning. “Later.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>wtf kind of coping mechanisms have I developed in this hell year? lol</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm on Twitter at <a href="https://twitter.com/van1lla_v1lla1n">@van1lla_v1lla1n</a>--feel free to dm me there about tags. I'm also very half-assedly on tumblr <a href="https://van1lla-v1lla1n.tumblr.com/">@van1lla-v1lla1n</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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